Lift up the Hands that Hang Down

I have often wondered how I can lift other people when I am feeling so desperately the need to be lifted? How can I give to others, when inside, I feel empty? How can I give a smile, when I feel like frowning? How can I help the weary, when I am so exhausted?

Sometimes, I want to be the one who gets helped…

There have been a few times in my life where I have literally cried out for help, and no one came. I’ll be honest, when I tell you, that sometimes I have thought “When is it my turn…when is the miracle going to happen for me?” When I am sitting alone in church, desperately longing for a friend, I have had the thought “when is someone going to sit by me…when is someone going to notice?”

A few years ago, I realized that no one was going to notice. I realized this when I saw another girl, just like me, sitting a few isles away. She looked lonely…and I realized that I had to do the noticing…even though I desperately wanted someone to notice me.

Three days ago, I was back feeling sorry for myself. Wondering why? Why don’t I have anybody to talk to who understands? Why is no one helping me? Why doesn’t someone knock on my door after I’ve had such a terrible day and say “I thought I would stop by, I was just thinking of you.”

Two days ago we took our 3 little kids to make sandwiches for the homeless. I had a fun time making the sandwiches and watching my daughter (especially) get excited to help. But when it came to delivering them, I got scared. I’ve never actually been to the Road Home, I’ve never actually walked among the poor. I was terrified. But as we walked, and handed out sandwiches I realized something:

I have been given much, and much is expected from me.

I can’t stay at home moping about thinking “Why me? When is someone going to help me?” Because there are too many people who need help, and not enough people helping. The strong can’t use being weak as an excuse.

Maybe in a perfect world, someone would show up on my doorstep every time I needed a hand. And maybe every time I was feeling down, someone would come skipping by to give me flowers and a hug and say that perfect something that I needed to hear. But this world…is hurting.

It is true, that sometimes I am hurting…but I have the truth. I know God loves me and I know it is my duty to help others find him…

It is easy to start feeling sorry for ourselves. I know, I do it all the time. It is easy to think “Why don’t I have any friends?” or “When is someone going to listen to me?” or “When are my challenges going to be eased?” In essence: ” When is someone going to show up on my front door the moment before I pass out in hunger, with that box of much needed food?”—the only thing is, that I have a box of food already sitting in my kitchen…so why am I not eating it, and why am I not giving it away?

Sometimes I want to live an excuse. I want to rely on others for my strength. But we are not going to find strength from others…if we are the strongest ones.It is time. Time to choose. Time to stand up out of mud, and lift down our weary hands to those who are even more weary. And maybe…maybe that is when we will find our strength.